


Storybook Children

by morewaterplease (orphan_account)



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Enemies to Friends, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Storytelling, and like possibly lovers wink wink, mentions of california and billy's mum, they are partnered for an english assignment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 09:59:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18962977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/morewaterplease
Summary: Steve Harrington hates stories. Billy Hargrove is a storyteller. They are partnered to write a short story for English lit.How hard can it be, really?





	Storybook Children

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Nancy Sinatra's Storybook Children, x

Some people like love stories. Some like horror, adventure, science fiction. Steve Harrington liked none. And he did have valid reasons to not like them, too. Buncha’ lies, he called them. Stupid made up fucking nonsense. It was why he knew from the minute he saw the new guy that they wouldn’t get along well. Because well… Billy Hargrove.

Billy Hargrove was a storyteller. He told these mesmerizing, captivating stories with this glint in his eye that just made you believe that his stories were oh so real. Steve had heard all sorts of stories. About the girls he’d been with, about all the stupid shit he’d done with his (probably nonexistent) friends. Bullshit, Steve thought as he scowled at the boy sitting in front of him. Billy Hargrove was nothing but total bullshit and he wanted to yell this right into his stupid face.

“So maybe we should try to come up with some ideas?” he said instead to a very visibly bored Billy Hargrove who looked slightly out of place in the dimly lit library with his unruly curls and fidgety hands. “We could work with one of the prompts from the list?”

Billy threw him an unimpressed look. He had made no attempts whatsoever at starting the partnered story they had to hand in next Friday. The normally hysterical boy was uncharacteristically sedated, sitting with his legs dangling from the arm of the library seat. Billy was (of course) a pen biter and he kept nibbling on the end of the pen he had borrowed from Steve. The corner of his mouth was bloodied, Steve noted. Stupid idiot, he thought. Probably got into another stupid fight or something. Billy kept scribbling stuff into the corner of his otherwise perfectly blank page, crossing his notes off with dissatisfaction evident on his face. “I don’t know, just come up with something and I’ll go with it.”

Wow, Steve thought. Something was definitely wrong if Billy Hargrove was going with his ideas for an English Lit assignment. “Sure. Fine. I’ll pick a prompt and we can write the story and hand it in, uh, Tuesday? Was the due date Tuesday?”

Billy absentmindedly nodded, which, quite honestly, concerned Steve a little bit. Hargrove was a pain in the ass, sure, but he never (ever) forgot to bring in his homework, let alone forgot the due date for an assignment. Something was definitely wrong and, ugh, fuck, Steve was fucking worried about Billy fucking Hargrove. So. He did something he knew he wouldn’t like, for someone he didn’t like. 

“Hargrove,” he poked the distracted boy with his foot, earning himself a half-hearted scowl. “Tell me a story.”

Billy Hargrove first scrunched up his nose (cute) (UGH) and then gave him a look that was just so resigned that Steve, just, couldn’t not try to help him feel better. “The fuck you want, Harrington.”

Steve put his notebook and pen down onto the empty table. Whatever this was, it needed his utter and complete attention. Sure, he didn’t exactly love the stupid name-calling and the constant bickering and this weird rivalry thing but. Maybe. He had been wrong with his initial judgement of Billy’s character. Maybe, just maybe, not all storytellers were fucking liars. At least not all the time.

“Tell me a story. Anything. Just. Indulge me, Hargrove.” He felt like it was a smile-appropriate situation. So. He gave Billy Hargrove one of his small, (and what he considered to be) friendly smiles. And, ah fuck, Hargrove froze in place. Like, he looked so taken aback that Steve started to reconsider his life choices starting off with why the fuck did I say that fuck. But then Billy said,

“Well,” he shuffled a bit in his seat, crossing his legs and leaning back, fixing his eyes on the ugly library ceiling. Steve Harrington, for the first time in his entire life, saw Billy Hargrove look thoughtful. “I could tell you about Cali. If that’s what you. Is that what you meant by story or?”

He left the question hanging. Ambiguous. Uncertainty was a good thing for dummies to have when they caught feelings for other boneheads. 

“Sure,” Steve said in a small voice because he was sort of expecting Billy to kind of brush him off and kind of tell a stupid bullshit story but here he was talking about California his past and Steve felt like an intruder. Then, he added in a more confident tone, “Tell me.”

And so Billy did. He started by telling Steve about this one neighbour him and his mum had, back when Billy was seven or something. The guy took his ducks for daily walks, can you believe that shit Harrington? They probably had better lives than us. He probably, like, took them to get manicures or some shit. Whenever he came out with his ducks me and mum would go for a walk and I would try to, like, pet them. I never got along great with ducks. You don’t get along great with people either, I’m sensing a pattern here. Oh shut up Harrington. Tell me about the weather. Oh, it was hot. Nothing like here. It was. It was nice. We used to have bikes. My mum had this beautiful blue bike she used to ride everywhere she stuck some tacky flowers on it and I, ugh, I miss it so fucking much. I miss her. She sounds really nice. She was. 

A comfortable kind of silence settled over them. Steve, however, was in no way in the mood for peace and quiet because honestly what the fuck. He was, firstly, grateful that Billy looked like he was feeling a little bit better. But other than that, oh, he was pissed off that the guy he despised turned out to be not that bad and he was fucking livid because he enjoyed Hargrove’s stories, and he was slightly. Confused. Because, well, when he didn’t hate Hargrove’s guts he kind of, uh, enjoyed his company. He was never one to be quiet about his feelings.

“You’re way nicer when you’re not in total dipshit mode, you know.”

Billy raised his eyebrows and gave Steve a lazy smile. “Well, thank you, Stevie, you’re not that big of a bitch either.” And he had said it in a half-joking tone. Half-joking because, well. Maybe he was not joking completely. Maybe he was not joking period.

“I mean it,” Steve said and gave him a fond smile and Billy’s insides did this weird flip and what the fuck what the fuck. “We should hang out sometime. Do you maybe wanna meet at the diner, near school? I mean you obviously don’t have to but like I would- “

Billy cut him off. “I would love that.” Shit did he sound too eager he hoped not.

But then Steve grinned and Billy felt quite alright. He gave Steve a small smile in return. “It’s a date, then.”

Their eyes lingered on each other for a second too long. They were both filled with the giddy excitement that comes with new adventure and uncharted territory. And for some unfathomable reason they both felt so so ready to write new stories together. Starting with the one that was due on Friday.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading:) My tumblr is morewaterplease so please do hmu if you want to give me some good song recs, talk about movies and scream about harringrove or other ships because like. we totally can do all of those lol. 
> 
> Much love!  
> Laur


End file.
